


Used

by Malind



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Lust, M/M, Rough Sex, possible incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-04
Updated: 2009-10-04
Packaged: 2018-09-19 17:49:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9452957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malind/pseuds/Malind
Summary: Vincent can't let go of the past.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1/24/17 - Reposted again. :P
> 
> 2/26/16 - I edited this a bit to fix it/make it cleaner, otherwise it's pretty much the same.
> 
> Original A/N: Out of the blue, after a long time, I suddenly had an urge to write two days ago, and this is what happened. This little blip is angst-ridden. You're warned. Not to mention, this is just a bit of heart-felt fucking, sorry. Before editing, the story remained free of incest, but I guess I just can't ignore the possibility. I did try. :(

The feel of him, as the lingering touch trailed the younger man's back, made the ex-Turk burn more than he ever had. But was that merely from the heat of the moment making him forget the feel of another?  Or perhaps because some sanity in him knew better, protested that he shouldn't be doing this.  And yet he was.

With Sephiroth down on all fours in front of him, Vincent's claw pressed aggressively into the man's damp stomach, almost a threat of blood. The white-haired man's trembling breaths, the way he pressed back against his groin, said that he understood that threat and liked it.

Kneeling on the plush bed behind the young General, his legs surrounding the other man's, Vincent gripped the length of his own cock resting against Sephiroth's backside and moved it between hip-width spread legs. The length poked against balls hanging down freely. The swordsman jerked a hand between his own legs, pressing the cock against the underside of himself, applying a surely cringe-worthy amount of pressure to his own testicles, and rubbed. Vincent growled and Sephiroth met it with one of his own, forcing the gunman's to morph into a groan.

Then Vincent's restraint slipped, yanking at long white hair damp against the man's back, forcing Sephiroth tightly back. "Keep that up and I guarantee this won't be pleasant."

"As if I want it to be," Sephiroth gasped out.

While sitting back on his heels, Vincent's hand, still tangled in hair, gripped the muscle-ridden chest in the same motion and brought the younger man up off his hands, sitting him down on his lap. He grabbed salty hair with his claw, moving it off an elongated shoulder. His lips filled the empty space on the bare neck, shoulder and back, kissing, licking, biting. The heated sweat on Sephiroth's skin tasted exquisite. Would the younger man object too much if he took a true bite? The flesh whitened, then reddened, and eventually puffed from the harsh contact.

Vincent felt the thumps of Sephiroth's body as the younger man thrust his hand over his own erection again and again. Overly aroused, gnawing harder, the gunman gripped and twisted the wet lump of flesh in his hand. His claw dug in. His hips pumped against the other man's backside.

"Fuck me like you fucked my mother."

To hear Sephiroth's husky breath say such bizarre and morbidly disgusting words made the raven-haired man almost burst with pleasure. The younger man yanked himself away, moving himself back onto his hands. Vincent moved with him and plunged himself deep into a hole that had already been used that day. The white-haired man's croak and whimper sounded so much better than his own gasp.

Vincent fucked him hard; Sephiroth fucked him back just as hard. Blood, sweat, cum, and pre-cum making him slick.

Gasping. Groaning. Moaning. Sweat. Reddened, damaged flesh.

Most probably would have called it rutting. Maybe some, as he tore at Sephiroth's body, rape. But Vincent was making love to this beautiful son of his long-time-semi-dead ex-lover/victim. It was lovemaking because he did love Sephiroth in so many complex, strange, and morbid ways. He knew he loved him so much because soon he would be putting him out of his misery, out of everyone's misery, and that knowledge continuously killed the little part inside of Vincent that still hinted at being human.

His own misery? Well, that was his curse, one well deserved.

His mind whimpered, _'Did I ever tell you I love you?'_ as he fucked Sephiroth. Faces, memories flashed in his mind and he wasn't sure who his mind was asking.

Sudden confusion blazed him as much as the lust. But he pumped with far too much vigor to avoid his inevitable orgasm hitting him hard, feeling like a multipoint explosion that never ran out of fuel and oxygen.

Teeth-gritted grunting with each tensing of muscle, semen gushing again and again, trying to escape upwards but only smearing against rough sheets. The remaining dripped down onto his fingers. Panting heavy breaths, he stroked a few more times, squeezing out anything remaining inside. He released a shuttering breath and glanced to the naked man lying on his stomach next to him. Blue eyes remained closed. Thank goodness Cid slept like a rock.

Weak sounds of clunking rides and people enjoying themselves -- probably far more than Vincent himself was -- floated to him from outside the hotel window. The Gold Saucer never slept, and he'd had enough sleep, enough nightmares over the previous thirty years. Nevertheless, the people's screams and howls almost sounded like a lullaby.

As the edge wore off, in the back of his cloudy mind which refuted his masturbation session, he reminded himself that Sephiroth hadn't known his mother, didn't know the guilt of Vincent and Lucretia's relationship. Only his own mind did... and her semi-dead one. And that was his fault. He'd had the chance to tell Sephiroth the truth, continued to, but never took it.

_As if he'd let me sit him down for a man to man talk. . ._

He reminded himself of the possibility of who Sephiroth really could be to him, as if he could ever forget. Surely the swordsman would have killed him sooner than fucked him willingly, had he known the truth about the events of so many years ago.

Vincent could only hope that if Sephiroth learned the truth, the swordsman could manage the final blow that would kill the gunman. He himself never could, despite his efforts. They were always good ones at that.

Just a bit longer, then maybe. . .

_'I love you... although I don't think anyone would believe that, myself included... and I'm sorry for it. Just one more fucked up thing to add to the list?'_

So many thoughts dwelling in his twisted mind, old thoughts, ones he would inevitably think over and over again, Vincent's hand pained him as he tried to ease his grip. With the orgasm waning, touching the wounded, but rapidly-healing flesh, felt worse. He groaned through the near torture.

"You deserve that shit keepin' me up."

The gunman jerked eyes with raised brows to stare at Cid. But he was well beyond feeling embarrassed with the other man. Cid already knew every scar he had. On his body, anyway. The other ones would have perhaps followed later on, but probably not. Cid wasn't a man to pry and Vincent wasn't a man to talk. And perhaps that was why they had chosen each other.

The pilot snorted and twisted his head away in a vague attempt to turn his back on the raven-haired man and to try to just maybe achieve some decent sleep that night. Vincent cracked a grin, vaguely amused, and reached out to touch a warm, but dry shoulder. Cid jerked his limb, clearly saying 'no'. Vincent rolled onto him beneath the covers, over a suddenly fighting body.

"Fuckin' hell, Vincent!"

Ignoring the respectable protest, the gunman plunged his slick, sore erection into a previously used, wet hole. Cid gasped as Vincent groaned. Vincent's cock stung from the friction and used semen, and it made him harder.

"How the hell did ya manage to stay in that fuckin' crypt all those years with that fuckin' cock of yers?!"

Despite how he enjoyed the words, Vincent shoved his semen covered fingers into the pilot's mouth, silencing his protests, showing him how just he'd done it with a pump of his hips. The blonde man grunted and greedily sucked on the fingers.

Crimson eyes fluttering shut with the strong pumps, Vincent wished he felt some love for Cid as well, instead of using him to soften the blow of the end.

As Cid pressed his backside against him as they used each other's heat, Vincent couldn't help but rationalize his disgusting behavior in his mind with a, _'But we're both getting something we want, aren't we?'_

And Cid panted a moan, as if answering, and not for the last time. It said, _'Fuck me good.'_


End file.
